


Double Duty

by roughmagic



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Multi, Multiple Partners, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other, Polyamory, Rough Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 16:34:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7275670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roughmagic/pseuds/roughmagic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been a long time, things have improved so much between them, and you want it. You want to fall asleep between the two of them more than anything.</p><p>Soldier 76/Reader/Reaper</p>
            </blockquote>





	Double Duty

**Author's Note:**

> Basically what it says on the tin. There's no really explicit language concerning the reader's physical body, but it reads mostly as DFAB. 
> 
> I wanted to write something where Jack and Gabriel had someone trying to repair their past friendship/relationship by getting between the two and acting as kind of a point of common ground. Point of common boning. Everyone's more or less comfortable, but maybe not entirely happy.

You know Jack is genuinely annoyed with you when his first kiss ends almost roughly enough to be a bite, and when he doesn’t hold onto your hand when he sits down on your bed. 

You know why, too. He had already made you explain to the whole team why lagging behind to try and pick off stragglers had been a bad idea in the debrief. It wasn’t like he didn’t have criticisms for anyone else, but the whole team knows you’re fucking, so it was a little more embarrassing. 

He’s just mad because you took a sniper round to the gut for it. And you were _fine,_ between him and Mercy the only thing you had left was a scar and some sore stomach muscles. But it got him worked up, and now, you knew, you were going to pay for it. 

“Come here.” Jack’s already taken off his visor and mask, but he looks just as intimidating. Maybe more, because your pride forces you to make eye contact as you approach him. He pats one knee and you flirt with the idea of just sitting on it and making him physically wrestle you into where he wants you. But you’re both tired, and that’s a good idea for another time, so you drape yourself over both his knees and listen to him take off his gloves. 

“That was a stupid stunt you pulled today.”

“I think you’ve made it pretty clear that I’m an idiot.” You already admitted it was a bad call, and you’re starting to wish he’d let it go. You like it better when he gets mad about you calling him _sir_ in the wrong tone of voice, or sending him nudes when he’s on duty.

Jack undoes your pants deftly and rolls them down over your hips, to where they bunch at your thighs and keep you from moving as much. Your shirt gets stripped off entirely before he takes a moment to consider your panties, before rolling them down to your thighs as well. He rests a warm and deceptively gentle palm on the curve of your ass. “Did I make it clear that I’m angry because you scared the living hell out of me?”

“Sure did, boss.” You don’t see or hear it coming, but you certainly feel the first slap as it lands on you, hot in its wake and loud. It’s always a scare at first, right before you start to like it and hate it. “Ugh, one.”

Two, three, and four go past with the same kind of sharp enjoyment that gets you wriggling to try and escape from it, and Jack loses patience, grabbing a handful of your ass and just _squeezing._ “You wanna kill me early from worry?”

“Get fucked!” You regret it as his hand comes down on you again with a smack that feels like it runs through your whole body. “Five!” He shouldn’t remind you that he’s old, or that he could just as easily die out there as you could. You don’t want to think about that. 

You pay for your rudeness, by ten you’ve got to count loudly because it just hurts. There’s a safeword you could use if you wanted but you don’t, you want him to wring you out. You’ll wake up scared shitless from nightmares of bleeding out on the white stone of Ilios on your own time, and he won’t be there for that. He’ll be here for this, though, and you chase it all the way to twenty spanks before you’re embarrassingly wet. 

Jack pushes you to twenty five before he stops, breathing tight and long. If you could stop trembling, you could probably squirm around and find him rock hard. “Get up, sweetheart.”

It’s not easy, since your legs don’t seem to want to work, boneless and still encased in most of your pants. He gestures vaguely to your room’s desk and you make it there on unsteady feet, leaning heavily on the desk and letting your elbows hold your weight. It leaves your poor butt open to the air, which still doesn’t sting as much as the canvas of his trousers when they brush up against you. 

You let out a hiss to make sure he knows it hurts, and he puts a hand on the small of your back as acknowledgement. He’s firm as he arranges your hips how he wants them, nudging your feet apart with his boots. They don’t go very far with your pants still trapping your legs close together, but if he didn’t want it like that, he would’ve done something about it. You rest your cheek against the cold desk and wait, jerking forward when his fingers brush the insides of your thighs. 

“I’ll leave an emitter here for you,” he mutters. It says a lot that your first instinct is to deliberately not use the biotic field, and just let the bruises form. He’d get annoyed, but he wouldn’t be able to put you over his knee for it. Might force him to be more creative. 

But then again, your ass _really_ hurts. 

Jack leans over to kiss one of your shoulder blades, and he goes slowly with his hand between your legs. You’re already so wet, it’s not much of a challenge for him. You don’t want it to be. You sigh when he adds a second finger as a hint that you’d like more, and you get a kiss on the other shoulder blade instead. Not tonight. He’s just going to open you up and then let you hang, you _know_ it. 

His hand pulls away and you whimper _Jack_ , even as his hands press your legs together. “I know, I know.”

The sound of his zipper sends a flush of victory through you, and you make a soft noise of approval as he pushes the head of his cock between your thighs, a low groan following. Every push is gentle and rubs him against you, but it’s not enough. He knows it, too. You twist around to try and look at him. “I sh-should’ve made this harder for you, earlier. If you’re gonna be like this, I should’ve made you _work_ for it.”

“I can barely feel my hand, honey. You made it plenty difficult.”

You squeeze your thighs together and Jack groans again, hips stinging your sore behind as he picks up the pace. His breathing’s different and his hands tighten on your waist. You know him well enough by now that he should probably stop, unless he means to really make a mess. “He’ll hate it if you come on me.”

“That’s the idea.” He comes against you with a deep groan, painting your entrance but not inside you, where you want him. You bite your lip as a few errant drips of the hot slick start crawling down your thighs. Jack’s breathing is a hoarse panting behind you, and you lean back to nuzzle against him. 

“Jack,” you murmur, enjoying the drag of stubble on his face. “Stay?”

Your old man sighs, pulling away. “He’d hate that even more.”

But he’d allow it. He might not even acknowledge Jack, but he would let him stay, you know it. It’s been a long time, things have improved so much between them, and you want it. You want to fall asleep between the two of them more than anything.

Pushing yourself off the desk, you finish kicking off your underwear and your pants, as Jack finishes adjusting his clothes and replacing his mask and visor. “You alright?”

“Sure.” You plant a kiss on his mask, trying not to be disappointed by the cold metal. “Get going.”

Soldier 76 lingers for a moment, brow furrowed, and you know you’ll probably have to have a difficult conversation later about whether or not you’re happy, if you feel taken advantage of, blah blah blah. But for right now, he runs a thumb over your cheek as he cups your face, you try not to lean into it, and he’s gone. 

The door shuts behind him and you sigh, trying to shove everything else to the back of your mind. You toy with the thought of trying to get yourself off as quickly as you can, just to spite your oncoming guest. 

“You’re _covered_ in him.”

It takes a lot of self control not to jump at that kind of a seamless, silent entrance anymore. He’s early. He might’ve even been lurking before 76 had left, and the thought of that sends a welcome thrill down to your stomach. “Oops?”

Gabriel makes a noise of disgust that you know is only partially meant for you, and sweeps up to pin you against the desk again, this time leaving your front open to him. In the dim of the room, he’s mostly a dark, massive shape and a bony white mask. He still smells like the practice range, gun smoke and ozone, and he’s running especially hot, radiating heat. 

You start as he picks you up at the waist, gauntlets like warm metal clamps as he sets you on the desk. There’s nothing particularly gentle about it, but he doesn’t use the claws. Your butt protests at being sat on, so you lean back to lay down, drawing your knees up and together just to be coy. 

His belt jingles fiercely as he undoes it with a little more than the usual vigor. “If he thinks that’s going to stop me—“

“It was my idea.” 

He growls, hands sealing around your calves and pulling your legs apart. You’re still more than wet and the air feels cool and exposing. Gabriel drags your hips off the edge of the desk and guides your legs to curl around him and you let out a pleased breath as you feel the warm length of his cock sliding against you. You’re delighted that he’s already hard, pleased that just seeing you in this state, ready for him, is enough. 

The claws of his gauntlet scratch against your stomach, over the new scar there, a ticklish mime of getting a handful of your guts. “You get off on that?” 

“Apparently you do.” 

_That_ annoys him, you can tell. He holds your hips still as he guides the head of his cock into you, the rest of you arching as he pushes in all the way, pleased noises floating out of you as you’re _filled,_ finally. Gabriel watches and waits, knowing what a little movement would do and holding it firmly out of your reach. 

But he’s close enough now that you can reach up and undo the clasps of his mask, moving slowly and giving him time to stop you. He doesn’t, all of him keeping still as you set the mask aside, pushing the heavy fabric of his hood back and framing his face with your hands. 

All the long, dark lines of his face and the shock of pale scars are almost familiar to you now, and you smile. “Gabriel—"

He kisses you, whether because he likes it or because he wants to shut you up, and your composure slips as he starts to grind against you. He’s so warm, rushing around you like a tide and starting to move his hips in earnest now, setting a pace that’s not too slow and not fast enough. 

It’s not supposed to be like this, you know, Gabriel’s mouth moving to your neck to leave another dark mark amid a constellation of fading ones, all from him. It’s supposed to be punishing, rough. Cathartic. But it just feels good. It feels right, it feels _loud_ because the desk is starting to make noise with every thrust. 

“I’m not gonna last,” you whisper, feeling and knowing it all at once. 

“Don’t,” he grunts, undoing the clasp of one of his gauntlets with his teeth and letting it fall away with a clank. His bare hand is shockingly warm against you and you buck up into it, jaw dropping open as he slips his fingers between you and the noise you make in response drives his hips faster and you are _gone._

The relief at finally coming undone is a wave with undercurrents of fear and longing, what if this never stops, you never want it to, you want to spend the rest of your life helplessly bucking your hips against him with every muscle on fire and embarrassing noises forced out of your throat.

Your legs barely hold you as he stops and steps back, but he does, turning you back around to face the desk with your legs kicked open wide and you feel the aching spots on the tops of your thighs that are going to hurt even worse once he starts but you can’t care, not when he loops a forearm around your neck and pulls you upright, back up against him where his hot breath can flutter into your ear.

“He took you like this,” Gabriel rasps, and you can’t tell if it’s a question or a statement, you just keen _Yeah, yes, please, he wouldn’t fuck me, please Gabriel_ and he snarls, pushing up into you and you don’t have enough breath left to cry out, all that’s left is to try and breathe and hold onto the arm around your neck. 

You can barely hear the desk over the blood rushing in your ears but you know that anyone in the room next to yours is going to have shit knocked off their walls from the force of this, everyone’s going to know, everyone will know that you’re trying to bridge the gap between 76 and Reaper with your body and no matter what they might imagine, it won’t be better than this. You come again when Gabriel’s free hand slips down your front and he fucks straight through your cries and helpless grinding against his fingers, and eventually you push his touch away because it’s too much, you’ve had enough, and so has he. You can feel cum on your thighs again and you want him out, just so it doesn’t get you going again. 

Gabriel sighs into your neck and you catch syllables, probably a word, probably nothing he meant you to hear. It’s nice. He stays over you for a moment, pressed against your back and the warmth from before is now a heat, everything else cold in comparison. He steps back and your elbows smack the desk when your legs definitely give out, and he gets you back to the bed. You feel good, shaking and sweaty, reveling in your body for a long moment.

When you open your eyes, you catch him staring because he looks away quickly, permanent frown back in place. You sit up on the bed, noticing he’s still sitting on the edge of it. “You okay?”

“Save that concern for yourself.” 

“Okay. Just asking.” You can’t believe you let this asshole inside of you. 

But, you think, looking at his profile, you can completely believe it. Your legs protest as you try to get comfortable, leaning back against the bed’s pillows, vividly aware that if you could reliably stand, you’d want and need a shower. There’d be time for that later. 

Gabriel’s still sitting at the edge of the bed, and you see him turn to look at the discarded mask on the desk, the clawed gauntlet on the floor. You can imagine him getting dressed and swirling away and it makes you feel hollow. 

Stupidly, you tug the top sheet free and slip under it, feeling even less protected. “Stay, please?”

He stands up, suddenly. “Don’t beg.” 

The other gauntlet goes, then the boots. Then the armor, then the cloak, and there’s still more clothes under that but he leaves them on. He doesn’t look any smaller without any of the armor. His mouth twists a little as he activates the biotic emitter Jack left behind on the bedside table, the one you’d forgotten about, and the low frequency field spreads a yellow glow through the room. 

You feel less. Not exactly better, but less. Gabriel doesn’t get under the sheet with you, but sits up against the pillows and stares at the door like he’s expecting intruders. His blinks are long and slow, though, and you hope maybe some of his chronic pain is eased by the field too. Maybe enough that he’ll doze off. That would be a dream. He’ll probably be gone whenever you wake up, because you are definitely about to nod off. But that’s fine. 

Going for broke, you settle down underneath the sheet, scooting closer to his side and letting your face rest against his arm. He pulls it away and you think you’ve pressed your luck too far, but instead you feel his hand slide down your back, resting there. One day, Jack will take up that space, and they can bicker at each other about personal space while you fall asleep. One day.

**Author's Note:**

> This was what I wrote at 12AM in the word doc to remind my future self of what I wanted to write:
> 
> solider 76 - does some filthy shit and leaves u there  
> reaper - oh boy
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
